


South Park Drabble Bomb (May 2018)

by GuineapigQueen



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, South Park Drabble Bomb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-14 08:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14765684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuineapigQueen/pseuds/GuineapigQueen
Summary: Here’s my offering to the May Drabble Bomb. I’m totally new here, so I thought I’d start small!





	1. Sixteen (Decade)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all, so I’m Roxy and I’m pretty new to writing fic for South Park. This particular Drabble is G rated cause they’re predominantly kids in it. Thank you to @metrophobic for beta’ing and to @Blame Canada for organising the event! 
> 
> Just a story about Craig and all his Stripes through the years.
> 
> Chapter Song - Sixteen - Lucy Camp

“I Don't Wanna Be Sixteen Again I’m Just Nostalgic”

Craig has been a keen owner of Guinea pigs since age eight. He used to hang around the pet store while his mother ran errands a couple of stores down. He’d place his chubby little hands on the glass and peer in at them as they waddled around the cage going about their day. He wanted one more than he wanted the new season of Red Racer on DVD or maybe, even more than he wanted a telescope, to look up at the stars. 

But his Parents said no, both to the Guinea pig and the telescope. They said that he was too young to be responsible for either of them. That didn’t stop him from asking, though. He begged almost every day for a year, and on his eighth birthday, his tired parents finally gave in.

He woke up to find a small cage in the middle of their living room with a tiny, squeaking fluffball inside. An all-black baby with only a singular white stripe across its nose. Craig was almost too scared to pick the baby up: what if he broke it? He remembered the instructions from one of the books on Guinea pig care he read religiously, in an effort to try and convince his parents that he was responsible enough to take care of one. He gently picked up the baby, making sure all four legs and its bottom were supported before he nestled it to his chest.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” He asked.

It is, in fact, a girl. Craig and his family find that out for sure when Craig peers into her cage one day to see Stripe (Craig wasn’t very creative with names), and two smaller Stripes wheeking up at him for breakfast.

Craig has to cover his mouth to stop himself from shrieking with excitement. (Loud noises scare Guinea pigs, one of the many things he recently learnt about them.)  
He goes bounding down the stairs from his bedroom into the kitchen to where his mother’s packing their school lunches for the day.

“Stripe had babies, Mom!” It’s the most animated Craig’s sounded in a good while. Well, probably since he got Stripe, at the very least.

“She what?” 

“She had two babies! Look!” Craig excitedly grabs her hand with his own little one and tugs. Laura Tucker obliges, bewildered that her son’s Guinea pig has somehow managed to multiply. 

(When they call the pet shop they got Stripe from, they get a bored teenager who tells them that it’s hard to tell when a Guinea pig is pregnant. Thomas and Laura know there’s no way they can take Stripe back for a refund now. Craig is attached.)

That afternoon, Craig borrows a book about caring for Guinea Pig babies at the library. He decides to name the babies “Stripe #2” and “Stripe #3”, and his parents give up on any idea of giving them away. 

All three (all girls, by some kind of freak of nature) die suddenly and together not long after Craig has turned ten. Craig strongly suspects foul play, but he can’t prove it. His parents blame it on the temperature, but Craig doesn’t buy it.

All he can do is try not to cry about it in front of his friends, lest they label him a crybaby like Clyde. According to all the books he immersed himself in after becoming a Guinea pig owner, two years isn’t a particularly long life for a Guinea pig, and that makes him very sad. For all he could see, they were just happy, furry goofballs who had never done anything wrong in their short lives. 

Why did his pets have to die? Why couldn’t it have been someone else’s, someone who didn’t care as much? Or why couldn’t they at least have been older? It doesn’t feel right or fair.

Despite the fact that Craig called him a crybaby countless times, Clyde still comes over and helps him make drawings to mark their graves. Clyde later takes those drawings and gets them laminated for Craig, so they’ll still be there after the rain. 

Craig doesn’t call Clyde a crybaby again after that.

Craig starts dating Tweek before deciding to get a new Guinea pig. He hadn’t meant to; they’re only ten and have no idea what they’re doing, but it seems to make everyone around them happy. Tweek’s not so bad himself, not really, it’s nice to be spending so much time with someone he genuinely likes and doesn’t feel like he needs to impress all the time. Craig discovers that’s one upside to dating Tweek instead of girls. Girls seem to have these expectations of him that he could never hope to meet. He’s supposed to not play in the dirt? No way! At least Tweek is there, playing in the muck with him, which is much more fun in his opinion. 

Tweek knows Craig is sad about Stripe and her babies. So sad that he hasn’t even thrown away their cage or any of their toys. Craig is pretty sure that his parents aren’t going to let him have another one anyway. Tweek is nice to him about it, though. He takes Craig to the movies, and offers him his leftover fries when they go to McDonalds afterwards. He holds his hand a lot, which is more helpful than Craig expected. 

When they head past the pet store, Tweek stops, and they both end up hovering out front for a few crucial seconds. “Can we look?” Tweek asks, and Craig shrugs. 

Tweek wants to look at Guinea pigs. Craig tries not to fall in love with a particular tricolour—one with a white stripe across their nose.

“Do you like that one?” Tweek asks him. “I want to get you -nnn- one you like.”

“You want to get me what?” Craig frowns. There’s no way his Mom will just let him bring home another Guinea pig.

“I’ve been saving up… you seemed so -ah- sad. Your Mom and Dad said I could. As long as I got a boy.”

“Oh,” Craig says, dumbly. “I like that one, yeah.”

He doesn’t say thank you in words—but in the way he holds Tweek’s hand the whole way home.

Craig comes home with his first boy Guinea pig in a cardboard box. There won’t be any surprise babies this time, but Craig is sure both he and Tweek can be enough to entertain Stripe #4. 

Stripe #4 passes when Craig and Tweek are teenagers. Just on the cusp of making their relationship more real, more genuine. Not just two little kids play-dating because that’s what they saw their parents do. At least Craig has had the label ‘gay’ slapped on him since he was ten, so he doesn’t feel so weird about wanting to kiss Tweek for real.

Craig has braces, and Tweek is a little chubby around the middle, but Craig figures at least they can go through their awkward stage together. 

The vet suspects cancer, which is very common in rodents, and Craig is inclined to agree. Tweek promises over and over that it was nothing Craig did and that even the best care can’t prevent something like cancer. Craig still feels guilty anyway. Tweek bought Stripe #4 for him, and Craig hasn’t kept him alive very long at all. Five years is a good run, but this Stripe had only gotten to have four.

Craig makes Stripe #4 a marker for his grave in woodwork, and Tweek lovingly bedazzles it. They add it to the Guinea pig cemetery in Laura’s flower beds and sit in silence as a tribute. Craig rests his head on Tweek’s shoulder, and Tweek holds him close so that any nosy neighbors won’t see him cry. 

When they decide to get Stripe #5 (there’s no discussion on what he will be named), they go together. They also pay together, half and half - it feels weirdly adult. Craig feels like it’s a commitment even if they’re only fifteen and clueless. Their only condition is that they have to get a boy again: Craig’s parents are still scarred from the surprise baby debacle and will not chance a girl ever again.

“That one looks like he has hat hair!” Tweek exclaims, pointing to a small boy with black and white fur, a white stripe along his nose, and an impressive-looking crest. Craig doesn’t correct him regarding the crest, and instead laughs along with him.

“He looks small,” Craig says. “Do you think he’s okay?”

“I think he’ll be just fine if someone who really -hnn- cares takes him home with them,” Tweek replies, knowingly. After nearly five years together, Tweek can read him like a damn book, and Craig has a love-hate relationship with that fact.

“Okay then,” Craig says. “I want him then, if you do?”

Tweek does, although he argues on the way home that they should have named him Pepe Le Pew. 

At eighteen, ten years after he set his eyes on Stripe #1 in all her glory, Craig and Tweek have a huge decision to make. Sure, applying for colleges and choosing your future is super hard, but for Craig the most agonising part is deciding what to do with Stripe #5. He’s three years old, and as far as Craig can tell, he’s perfectly healthy and thriving. He’s doubled in size since they first brought him home as a tiny runt who could fit nicely in Craig’s palm. They could take him along, but that would mean they’d have to find a pet-friendly apartment. Living on campus would also be completely ruled out. It narrows their accommodation options by a lot. 

Craig thinks maybe it might be better if they leave him behind. Craig and Tweek could always come back to visit him during their holidays - Craig’s bedroom in South Park is all he really knows, and Craig isn’t sure that it would be kind to move him somewhere else potentially hours away. 

When Tricia offers to take him, Craig breathes a secret sigh of relief.

He feels, in an odd way, he’s passing the baton to her. Maybe she’ll become as avid a Guinea pig lover as him. Maybe in the future, Craig and Tweek will get another Guinea pig once they’ve finished college and have a place all their own.

That doesn’t mean Craig still doesn’t shed a tear as he and Tweek bundle their things into Tweek’s hand-me-down car. Tweek holds his hand over the console as they drive away, without their beloved Stripe #5.


	2. Genesis (Photograph)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Day 2 - Photograph 
> 
> This Craig is from an upcoming fic I’m writing called Sanctioned. Watch this space I guess!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter track - Genesis - Dua Lipa
> 
> Ty to @metrophobic who betad all my drabbles.

Craig has way too many photos of himself and Tweek on his phone. Too many, for someone who is supposed to be getting over his ex-boyfriend in the name of self-improvement. 

He still has all the photos he definitely should not have: ones he’d probably go to prison over, if he ever distributed them out of revenge. God, what if Tweek still has pictures of his dick? He most likely does. Tweek is a spiteful motherfucker, but Craig doesn’t think he’d actually spread pictures of his dick all over the internet. At least, he hopes not.

Maybe it was naive of past-Craig to assume that he’d be with Tweek forever, but he genuinely never felt that strongly for another person in his entire life. 

Deep down, Craig liked the idealism of it all: the idea that he’d marry the person he lost his virginity to, or the idea of marrying his best friend. Because that’s what Tweek was, or had been - his best friend. He was honestly just floating without him and was livid with himself for ending their relationship in a drug-induced paranoid haze. 

Tweek and Craig had gotten comfortable in their bad habits. The whole thing just kept going around and around, like a ride that Craig couldn’t find a way to get off. He realised pretty quickly that there was zero chance of getting off that ride with Tweek - Tweek wasn’t willing to give up his bad habits, and it was going to cost him Craig. 

Cost them each other. 

That idealism gave way to reality. Craig couldn’t keep shutting everything and everyone out in favour of getting high and having sex with Tweek for weeks at a time. They were getting fucked up every day, and it was beginning to show. Craig was missing school, he hadn’t been home in weeks, and his anxiety was at a peak high. Craig liked to think that, for the most part, his anxiety was normal and manageable—but not anymore.

It was getting to the point that only sex could calm him down. He couldn’t leave Tweek’s bedroom, let alone the house, and it just felt like everything was closing in.

Tweek liked to be self-destructive, whereas Craig wanted to actually build something for once.

So he decided to build up himself, maybe even start to get his life back together. This couldn’t include Tweek. Tweek was half the source of the problem, and he was an enabler. At first, this made him angry: mainly at Tweek, but also deep down at himself, for letting something he loved so much go to utter shit. Every time Tweek tried to pull, he had to push back even harder. They went from being the perfect match to clashing tectonic plates, the threat of an earthquake at any moment. It was hard for Craig to even look at Tweek without seeing all the things he adored, and wanting to just run back to him. Beg for forgiveness, let those old habits die hard. 

At this point, it’s easier to hate Tweek—and have Tweek hate him back—then it is to love him.

The truth is, Craig adored Tweek. Still adores him, and that’s part of why he can’t bring himself to delete all their pictures.

Craig, himself, had been relatively uninterested in either sex - or so he’d thought. He tried things with girls, because that’s what you were supposed to do. He didn’t hate it, but he didn’t exactly love it, either. He didn’t go crazy over Bebe’s double D’s, but he sort of just put that down to being more mature and civilised than his peers. 

When Bebe wanted to kiss him at a party he let her, because he knew it would impress his sex-obsessed peers. He briefly wondered if there was something wrong with him. Bebe was every other dude’s dream girl, but he just didn’t feel any desire to bang her.

He didn’t want to be gay. Not at first. 

His Dad was kind of old-fashioned, and Craig was a little bit afraid of how he’d react to hearing that his only son was into dudes. Craig stayed up too late at night, trying to talk himself out of liking Tweek. Tweek was just his best friend; it was just the affection you’d have for your best friend. Craig didn’t think about the sharp planes of Tweek’s back or the thickness of his thighs when he whacked off, he didn’t.

There were so many other things he liked about Tweek too, non-sexual things: like how he was unapologetic about his tics and odd speech patterns, or how he always wore baggy shirts to cover up the slight chub on his lower belly (but Craig knew it was there, he’d seen Tweek drunk and shirtless), or the way Tweek could just down shot after shot and not puke. Tweek was funny too; Craig thought that a good deal of the time he didn’t realise just how funny he was, but that was what Craig found so endearing.

He loves the way Tweek dances. He always danced without any fear or abandon, like he couldn’t give a shit who was watching. Craig could watch him spinning and smiling for hours under the dimmed lights in Token’s living room.

He wishes he could create like Tweek does—or how he used to, before he decided to drink and drug himself into oblivion. Craig can’t draw for shit but Tweek, Tweek painted beautiful space-scapes just for Craig. Craig still has them blu-tacked to his wall - they’re way too beautiful to pull down over a breakup. It just feels too petty, like a waste of Tweek’s clear talent.

Sometimes, Tweek would stay up all night to paint with Craig falling asleep on his bed. Craig would stir when Tweek finally crawled into bed and sleep for a few hours as the sun came up. Tweek would wrap his arms around Craig’s body and hold him exactly how he wanted, but was too afraid to ask for. Whenever they fucked, Tweek always asked him if he was okay, if he was hurting, did he like it? Tweek treated him like he was gold—or at least he had in the beginning. Craig tried his best to reciprocate.

Mostly though, Craig just wants to go back to how happy they look in all the photographs.  
He wants to get back that innocence, that hope and that optimism. That pure and untainted teenage love before all the bullshit got in the way.

He stops scrolling when he finds a particular picture - it’s him and Tweek.

Tweek is smiling so wide that his eyes are almost completely closed, and Craig has his arms around his love, also smiling. Tweek has paint on his face, just underneath his left cheekbone; his face is fuller and his skin less sullen. He’s actually genuinely happy, instead of that dumb lazy smile he gets when the happiness is artificial.

Craig wants this Tweek back—not bloodshot-eyed, paranoid, self-destructive Tweek.

He wants the Tweek who liked to create, not this incarnation who can only destroy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep forgetting to add my tumblr is blesspastacraig if you wanna check it out. I mostly just reblog creek and cute animals.


	3. You Better Treat Me Like Church (Ex)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How fucking dare he, Tweek of all people, tell him how to parent?
> 
> This contains past Mpreg, sorry Mum, sorry God.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Track - Church - Alison Wonderland

Someone’s pounding on the door. Not just knocking but like, really beating the shit out of it. Craig groans and rolls over. The clock on his bedside table reads 12:30 AM. He was actually asleep; it’s been the first consecutive couple of hours of sleep he’s gotten in a good while. The person keeps pounding on the door, and it’s followed by the sharp shriek of a baby. Craig moans again. 

Why would the universe do this to him? He finally got her to sleep.

The person banging on his door isn’t giving up, so Craig rolls out of bed, hoping he can at least get the noise to stop. He feels terrible about leaving his daughter screaming in her bassinet, but this area is dodgy. There’s no way he will open his door to some weirdo in the middle of the night with a baby in his arms. Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time he’s gotten up in the dead of night to tell some crackhead to stop yelling, or to call the cops because of a domestic dispute.

The first thing he sees through that scratched-up peephole is wild blond hair. 

Tweek. 

Fuck. 

He can’t even pretend he isn’t home, because Tweek knows he never goes out—not anymore, anyway. Where would he be at 12:30 AM with a baby? Certainly not with Tweek in the backseat of his parents’ car. Never again. Those days are long dead.

Craig still opens the door, even though he knows he shouldn’t. He’s sort of relieved that it’s Tweek, though, and that he won’t have to call the cops again. All the same, he blocks the doorway so Tweek can’t rush in.

“It’s asshole o’clock at night,” he gripes, the tiredness making his voice sound thick instead of the tough he was going for. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Craig,” Tweek says dumbly. “Craig, you’ve gotta -ah- let me in. I can’t stay with my parents anymore man, it’s messing with my head.”

Craig wishes he had a working brain cell, but between the tiredness and his daughter screaming from their bedroom, he’s got nothing.

“I don’t want to,” is his answer. “You left us.”

“Craig,” Tweek repeats his name like it’ll make Craig change his mind. He cranes his neck to look behind Craig and into the messy apartment. It’s a shithole, Craig knows that, but it’s all he can afford. He hasn’t got the energy to keep it neat and tidy the way he did his childhood bedroom. Maybe he’d care more if he wasn’t covered in baby puke and dribble the majority of the time.

Technically, Tweek is still on the lease, too.

“Craig, she’s crying,” Tweek points out.

Craig wants to slam the door in his face right then and there, but he doesn’t. Instead, he stays, like an idiot.

How fucking dare he, Tweek of all people, tell him how to parent?

“Yeah, thanks to you, asshole. I got her to sleep and I was actually sleeping for once in my fucking life.”

“Sorry,” Tweek says meekly. “I couldn’t stay there any longer, man. They -hnn- they make me crazier than I already am.”

“Fuck,” Craig sighs, and then he finally relents, standing aside for Tweek to come in.  
Tweek looks cold, and skinny, but apart from that he looks healthier than he did before he left. That’s a surprise, but not a bad one. His eyes look kind of far away, though, and Craig’s not about to place any bets for his sobriety.

He’s still skinnier than Craig, which Craig absolutely despises. 

Pre-pregnancy, Craig had been much skinnier than Tweek. Now, not so much. Like he really had the fucking time to diet when he could barely afford to feed his kid. It’s all well and good for Tweek, to come and go as he pleases while Craig is alone, stretchmark-riddled, and fat. 

“I have to go get her,” he says, and heads towards the tiny bedroom that he (and Tweek, once) shares with his daughter. He couldn’t afford a two-bedroom flat and he can’t really afford this one-bedroom either. Not without Tweek’s income as well, and the idea of asking his parents for money makes Craig feel nauseous. 

She’s still screaming, and Craig thinks it’s because he’s left her alone after being woken so suddenly. She’s so clingy that he wants to scream sometimes. He loves her, but he hasn’t gotten to do a single thing for himself since she was born. Even when Tweek was still there, he was essentially useless - either too high or too depressed to get out of bed. 

He reaches into the bassinet (secondhand from a thrift store) to lift her up, and brings her to his chest, where she feels safest. Craig shushes her and rocks back and forth a little, but she’s still whining. He figures since they’re all up, he’ll just feed her now instead of within the next half hour or so. (If she wanted to sleep, Craig would have totally let her.)  
He brings her back out into the living room/kitchen - it’s all sort of just one room crammed into a tiny space. Tweek is sitting on the old, disgusting couch they found on the side of the road when they first moved in. He watches Craig try to comfort their crying kid like he’s magic or something. 

Craig goes to place her on the play mat he has in the middle of the living room floor, but he has to be careful: she can roll now. But what else can he do? There’s only one of him, and he only has so many hands.

“I can hold her, man,” Tweek says quietly. Now he wants to be quiet. Wonderful.

Craig frowns at him, unsure.

“I can hold her,” Tweek insists, more determined this time. “I’ve held her before, Craig.”

“Not for months,” Craig says. He’s not sure if he trusts Tweek anymore, but a break would be so freaking nice.

“I took care of her at the hospital, when you were all -nnn- zonked out after your c-section.”

“You had help,” Craig says bitterly, but he hands her to Tweek anyway. 

Tweek seems to have retained whatever basic baby-holding knowledge he had before taking off. “She’s so big,” he remarks wistfully. Of course she fucking is, she’s a baby, babies grow you goddamn moron.

Craig heads for the fridge to fix up a bottle. He can hear Tweek talking to her in the background, like he knows anything about her at all. All he really knows is her name: Bijou. Craig kind of hates it now, but that’s mainly because Tweek chose it. Tweek had been so passionate about it: “she’s our precious gemstone Craig!” And Craig had kind of just gotten caught up in his excitement. They were definitely too young, but they loved each other, or so he thought. Tweek had been so excited, and he appealed to Craig’s sentimental side - the one he really only has for Tweek. Tweek went on about how the baby was half him and half Craig, how could they kill something they created together and Craig totally bought it. It’s not that he would take her back now—he wouldn’t—she’s here and she’s his. But he’s so tired, and upset that Tweek made all these promises only to break them.

He heads back over to the couch and tries to take his baby back from Tweek. Tweek resists. “I can feed my own kid, man,” he says, and Craig hands him the bottle out of sheer exhaustion. 

Craig flops down beside them on the couch and puts his head in his hands.  
“You can stay on the couch,” he states. “I’m not having you screw me anymore.”

“That’s fair,” Tweek replies, still intently watching Bijou drink. “I went to the hospital you know, like -ah- like you wanted me to.”

“You did?” Craig’s surprised; that was the main reason he kicked Tweek out in the first place: because his episodes were getting worse and he just wouldn’t go. He just self-medicated and made everything so much worse. After that, Tweek had just fallen off the face of the earth. Craig thought he’d at least want to see Bijou, but there was nothing.

“They held me against my will at first, but I went and I stayed. They put me on this heavy shit man, that’s why I’m -nghh- talking kinda weird, but it works,” says Tweek. Craig has noticed him talking slower, but it’s actually more of a normal speed, as opposed to Tweek’s regular mile-a-minute rambling. “I’m sober though,” he adds. “Except for this antipsychotic stuff.”

Craig isn’t sure if he believes it, but he supposes he’ll find out if he lets Tweek stay here indefinitely. “You can’t just come back like this and think I’ll be okay with it,” he says. He’s more flabbergasted than annoyed at this stage. If he wasn’t so tired, he might have yelled, but he just hasn’t got the same bravado that he used to have before he had Bijou.

“I know, I just couldn’t stop thinking about -nnn- you and her in the hospital. I knew you’d be angry at me so I went -ah- back to my parents’ thinking maybe I’d call you and you’d let me see her but like, they’re awful, Craig. I just can’t.”

“I know,” Craig says sadly. “That’s why I said you can stay. I hate them more than I hate you.”

Craig burned a lot of bridges when he had Bijou, including with his own parents. They’d been so angry with him, which only doubled when he dropped out of school. After a particularly nasty argument he packed up his shit and headed to Tweek’s - he ended up staying there until they found this apartment. Tweek’s mom helped them get it, but other than that, they hadn’t helped financially. Especially not after Tweek left; they’ve seen Bijou maybe once since she was born.

Tricia would sometimes come to visit, and tell Craig that his parents weren’t that mad anymore and he should just come home. Or at least ask for help, but his pride won’t let him. He doesn’t want to admit he made the bad choices that he did. Accepting their help now feels oddly like failure.

“I can help, if you want,” Tweek offers. “I don’t have a job but I could -ah- look after her, like how we originally planned.”

“I’m not making any decisions about you tonight,” sighs Craig. “Show me, don’t tell me.” Tweek nods, and he looks down at Bijou.

“She’s nearly done, man she’s hungry!” He laughs fondly. Craig just wants to go to bed, but he doesn’t trust Tweek to be any good at putting her down. He yawns and tries to keep himself awake.

“Do you wanna burp her?” he asks. Do you remember how?

“Okay,” Tweek answers. “Do you have a towel, or…?”

“Mhmm,” Craig says, before dragging himself to the laundry to grab the first clean towel he can see. He throws it at Tweek, who catches it somehow. How is he not tired? Craig is tired to his bones. He’s crying-silent-tears-at-3am-while-Bijou-is-being-fed tired. Or sobbing into his pillow as she screams because she got her first cold, and Tweek isn’t there. When he hasn’t had a break or slept in days, when she cries every time he tries to put her down.

If Tweek stays, maybe, just maybe, he’ll get some respite.

Tweek is doing okay with burping her, but he keeps looking over at Craig for validation, like he’s not sure he’s doing it right. Craig doesn’t want to put him out of his misery just yet. “Do you think you’ll be able to get her back to -hnn- sleep?” Tweek asks.

“Yeah,” Craig replies. “She passes out after being fed. She might not stay asleep though.”  
He reaches for her. “She’s clingy,” he adds. “She’ll fall asleep on me.” Ultimately, she doesn’t know Tweek. Craig is the only consistent person in her life, even if she’s too young to truly know it.

“I’m taking her up to bed,” Craig says as he settles the sleepy baby in his arms. “The couch is yours, but you know I don’t have any spare pillows or blankets that aren’t hers.”

“I know,” says Tweek. “Thank you Craig.”

“Help me with the baby, and you’re okay.” 

He doesn’t know if Tweek will actually keep his word, or if he’ll even keep taking his medication and stay sober. Craig does know that he loves him in a stupid, self-destructive way and that even if he does break his promises all over again, Craig will probably still open that door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this despite the weirdness.  
> I'm blesspastacraig on tumblr if you wanna be friends.


	4. Breathe (Memory)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craig’s trying to keep it together, he really is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set in the same verse as my previous drabble (for ex) so yeah more mpreg sorry.  
> This idea wouldn't leave me alone so I just had to write it out, but if you're not into it, all good.

Chapter Track - Breathe - Jax Jones

Craig’s trying to keep it together, he really is. His baby is eating and he has a roof over his head. That should be more than enough, right? 

So what if Tweek is gone. It wasn’t like he was contributing anything helpful to the household. He would usually just lie there on the bed like a lump, or go out and not come home for several days at a time. It’s not like he got up at 3am to feed the baby, or even looked after her properly while Craig tried to recover from an awfully rough birth that ended in an emergency c-section. He was a dead weight, and Craig was doing all the work on his own anyway. 

It shouldn’t make a difference that he’s gone, but it definitely does. At least if Tweek were there, Craig could keep up the pretense that their relationship hadn’t totally failed after their unplanned baby was born. Craig could sort of hope that Tweek would get his shit together and help.

He’s all alone, tired, chubby, and overwhelmed with a demanding baby that he doesn’t even really have a clue how to care for. He’d give anything for some sleep, for a break away from his thoughts and regrets. For some human interaction beyond a zonked-out Tweek or a screaming baby.

She’s quiet now, though, eating in Craigs arms quite contentedly. She has no idea how hard her life is going to be. Their life.

Craig can’t help but feel like his best just isn’t going to be enough. How can he be two people at once, yet keep it all together for this little girl? Right now, alone in the dark, he doesn’t think he can. He lets silent tears roll down his cheeks, because he doesn’t even have a free hand to wipe them away. He tries to stop the involuntary sobs wracking his chest, lest they stop his baby from falling asleep. 

Tweek wasn’t always totally hopeless. Craig can remember him being quite supportive when he was pregnant. He also held his hand during labor, and he even changed Bijou's diapers, fed and bathed her when Craig was the terrible combination of over-medicated and sore after the c-section. He was way too high to even argue with Tweek’s name choice.

Bijou Sapphire Tucker-Tweak. 

If Craig had the time or the energy, he’d fuck the Tweak part right off. He still might, when she’s older, because he definitely doesn’t want her to ask about Tweek. He wants to postpone that conversation for as long as he can.

He was such a hormonal bitch when pregnant too. He wasn’t really angry, but he was clingy, and got upset about things that he’d normally not give two shits about. 

At the very beginning he had been so sick, too sick to hide it from his parents and his close friends. He hadn’t been able to eat anything, and he spent most of his time huddled in Tweek’s arms. 

He had no energy to pretend it wasn’t happening. Tweek seemed excited. He wanted to tell everyone he met, while Craig lived in oversized hoodies, hoping that kids at school wouldn’t notice. 

Clyde, Token and Jimmy knew; he couldn’t keep it from them, but he thought he might die from sheer embarrassment if Stan Marsh and his ilk ever found out.

They did find out eventually. Everybody did. 

Craig couldn’t deal with everybody laughing at him behind his back (and sometimes, even to his face), so he dropped out. That was the last straw for Craig’s already disappointed parents and, stupidly, Craig packed his things and moved in with Tweek. All that time, Tweek was lovely; he constantly tried to make Craig feel good about himself and the way his body—hell, his life—was rapidly changing. Tweek also dropped out of school too: he had always hated it, and since he was so keen to be a Daddy, he was going to look after the kid once it was born. 

The plan was for Craig to go find some shitty job and work, while Tweek stayed home with the baby. Tweek wasn’t very good at holding a job beyond working in his parents’ coffee shop, so Craig thought he would be their safest bet. Obviously, things hadn’t turned out that way and Craig ended up resentful that he was stuck with a baby that Tweek talked him into keeping in the first place.

Craig hated all the weight he had to gain when carrying Bijou. Apparently, he’d been “underweight” pre-pregnancy. He didn’t realise just how much of his self-worth he’d placed in his appearance until he suddenly had a belly, complete with glaring red stretch marks. None of his pants were even done up anymore, and yet he was still feeling sick all the time. It didn’t feel fair at all; he wished he had the power to tell Tweek no but he didn’t, and he couldn’t take it back now. 

He pissed off his parents and isolated himself from all his friends. Craig wished the whole situation would just go away. But it wouldn’t: the baby kept growing and growing, making her presence known.

It all became terrifyingly real when Craig felt her move for the first time. He had been awake late at night, Tweek sleeping beside him peacefully, when he felt the first flutters. He hadn’t been able to sleep that night—his hips and back were constantly aching—and there, just out of the blue, she decided to make herself known. 

As a general rule, Craig avoided touching his stomach if he could. Tweek wanted to touch it all the time, and Craig usually let him. He didn’t like to touch it himself; he didn’t like to be reminded of what was happening to him, how his life had spiralled out of control. But that time—when he first felt her move—his hands immediately flew there, betraying him. Almost instinctively, he was borderline horrified that she was moving around inside him and he could feel it. 

It was also kind of nice though, to know she was there, that he wasn’t as alone as he felt. That night was probably when he first started truly loving her, even if he didn’t admit it to Tweek. 

One of his sweetest memories, before everything went to shit, was waking up to Tweek’s voice talking softly to his swollen stomach. Tweek didn’t notice he was awake, his eyes fixated on Craig’s belly, so Craig just closed his eyes and pretended he was still asleep. 

Normally, Tweek didn’t talk to Craig’s tummy all that much, because Craig didn’t like it. He thought it was weird. It was weird enough that Tweek wanted to touch it all the time, so Tweek respected that boundary for the most part.

That day, however, Craig let him. He was glad he did. 

Tweek wasn’t even saying anything special or profound, not really, but it was the way he said those things. With so much genuine love and conviction - it almost made Craig feel like maybe things would be okay. 

They weren’t, of course; the shit hit the fan, just like Craig knew it would. But in that moment, he actually felt kind of excited.

This is the Tweek he likes to remember when he’s at his loneliest. Not the Tweek he kicked out of the house about two weeks ago. He hasn’t even come back for his stuff, and Craig isn’t sure he would even remember being kicked out, he was so high. He must have some memory of the argument, because he hasn’t come back. 

Craig isn’t sure he even wants him to, anymore. 

It’s nights like this he wants to call his Mom: to cry, say sorry and please help me? Yet even now, in his most desperate hour, he’s still too stubborn to ask. He doesn’t know how to start the conversation, and it’s not like either of his parents have tried to contact him. Craig often wonders if they’re trying to teach him a lesson for not listening to them, for being so disobedient and running away.

Lesson learned, can I please come home now? 

Craig doesn’t know how he’s going to keep the lights on come next month. In a bit of a sleep deprived haze, he wonders if maybe Tweek left behind some drugs he could try and sell. Kenny McCormick would probably buy them to resell; he lives not-too-far away in an equally shitty apartment with his sister. Tweek might even have some of that good prescription shit too. 

Fuck, he’d do just about anything to avoid that phone call with his parents. 

He’d gone into labour in the middle of the night, and almost scoffed at how typical, how cliche that was. Craig thinks that he might have slept though part of the beginning, because it hurt a lot more than he expected. Or maybe, that much hurt so early on was an omen for how wrong everything was about to go. Craig wasn’t sure.

His water hadn’t broken yet, so he used that as an excuse not to go to the hospital just yet.  
They were going to have to take either a bus or a cab to get there (and they couldn’t even afford the cab, not really). Truthfully, Craig didn’t want to move. He was frightened about what was happening to him; what he wanted to do was lie in bed and just pretend he had appendicitis or something.

It wasn’t until Craig puked all over their bed that Tweek finally made him go to the hospital.

It was like, 3am, and they caught the first bus of the morning, Craig’s hospital bag slung over Tweek’s shoulders. Craig started to cry almost as soon as they sat down. He couldn’t help it, it hurt and he was terrified. He completely lost control of his composure, but Tweek took it all in stride. That had been another thing that Tweek got right before the baby actually arrived, and it gave Craig such false hope that Tweek might actually be good at parenthood. He was glad that he had Tweek to hold him through that bus ride, but it didn’t make the whole scene any less pathetic. 

She came into the world under stress—probably another omen, now that Craig really thinks about it. Everything had been so slow: extremely painful but also excruciatingly slow, and Craig had screamed and cried in front of more strangers than he ever expected.   
And then it had just been go, go, go and just like that, Craig was being prepped for an emergency c-section. At that point, he didn’t really have an opinion on the matter. He just wanted her out.

He honestly thought he was going to die, that she was going to die or maybe they both would. Neither of them did, but Craig’s tired, teenaged brain jumped straight to catastrophizing anything and everything.

He only has groggy memories of when he held her for the first time - he remembers crying, and that he noticed she had Tweek’s eyes. He wishes that his memories were clearer, but the anesthesia did a number on him, and it wasn’t a nice high, either. He vomited again before he passed out, and then Tweek was passed the torch of caring for their tiny, squirming baby. More false hope: on that night, Tweek had seemed like a natural.

A small cry snaps Craig back to the present. His daughter’s finished her bottle, and now she needs to be burped. He doesn’t even bother to get a towel, fully prepared to just let her spit up on his shirt. He’s pretty sure all his shirts have baby-related stains that he can’t see the point of trying to get out. He winces as he shifts her to his shoulder; he suspects his c-section incision might be infected, but he hasn’t got the money to see a doctor. 

This is his life now, he thinks, patting his little girl’s back.

But he has to try. He might have made a series of terrible choices to end up here, but that’s not Bijou’s fault. She didn’t ask to be born to two dumb teenagers - and now, one. 

He has to do his best, even if it’s not good enough. 

Try to get the next choice he makes right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr is blesspastacraig if you wanna be friends :)


	5. Babe (Letter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember, fear is in no way truthful.
> 
> Tweek and Craig's relationship through post-it notes and texts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my last entry for the South Park Drabble Bomb! I've enjoyed participating in this event so much! Thanks to everyone who has been reading, commenting and leaving kudos. It's been really encouraging.  
> Thank you to @Blame Canada for her diligence and hard work organizing this event.  
> And thank you to @metrophobic for beta'ing all 5 drabbles for me.
> 
> Chapter Track - Babe - Emeli Sande

Babe,  
Can you get milk today?  
Love you, Craig.

I’m in bed. No milk.  
-T

Babe,  
I hope your day is better today.  
Try to get out of bed if you can.  
Love you, Craig.

Couldn’t.  
-T

Babe,  
You are strong and you will get through this.  
Love, Craig.

I love you.  
-T

///

Tweek  
Come home. I need u.

Craig  
I’ll ask my boss babe.

Tweek  
Hurry

Craig  
Ok honey, I’m leaving now.

Tweek  
I think I need to go to the hospital again.  
I failed.

Craig  
You didn’t fail anything.  
I’m coming home now.  
I love you babe.

///

Babe,  
I miss you.  
Love, Craig.

My babe,  
I’m going to keep this here until you come home.  
So you’ll know how much you’re loved and missed.  
Love, Craig.

Hey babe,  
Thinking of you today.  
Love, Craig.

Babe,  
You’re my favourite person.  
I can’t wait for you to get home and we’ll try that Indian place.  
Love, Craig.

Babe,  
Please come home soon.  
I’m missing you.  
Love, Craig.

Tweek,  
It’s late and I’m drunk.  
I need you.  
-Craig

Babe,  
You’re so strong, it blows me away.  
You’ve improved so much.  
Love, Craig.

Babe,  
I’ve missed your smile.  
It was nice seeing it again today.  
Love, Craig.

Babe,  
I can’t wait to see you today.  
You’ll finally be home with me, where you belong.  
Love, Craig.

I love u so much but I don’t deserve u  
-T

Babe,  
You deserve everything.  
Love, Craig.

///

Tweek  
I’m really sorry that ur working double shifts bc I can’t hold a  
damn job.

Craig  
Your job is to get better :)

Tweek  
That doesn’t seem fair.

Craig  
Rest, let the meds work.  
I’ve got this covered.

Tweek  
I’ll try nd get the house clean 2day

Craig  
It’s fine. It’s my mess anyway.

Tweek  
Ok i’ll cook then

Craig  
Only if you wanna. I know you like to cook.

Tweek  
I’ll cook since Im not payin rent

Craig  
We live together, you don’t pay rent.  
What’s mine is yours etc. 

Tweek  
I’ll pay u in love?

Craig  
Love is a currency I can accept.

///

Craig,  
Gone 4 a walk 2 pickup my meds.  
B back soon.  
Ily -T

Babe,  
Look at you!  
Love, Craig.

Craig,  
Its not a big deal stop bein dumb  
-T

Babe,  
It’s a huge deal!  
Let’s get pizza when I get home.  
Love, Craig.

 

Craig,  
I need to get up earlier so we can actually speak 2 each other  
instead of playin sticky note tag.  
-T

Babe,  
Get up whenever you want.  
I kinda like it. It’s sweet.  
Wait up for me?  
Love, Craig.

Craig,  
I’ll b out when u get home.  
When I get back lets go 2 the Indian place u wanted 2 try.  
-T

Babe,  
Goddamn, I love you.  
Love, Craig.

///

Craig  
You have therapy today?

Tweek  
Yep. I’m goin 2 bribe myself with ice cream or something.

Craig  
Good, stay out if you can.  
It’s nice to see you going places by yourself.

Tweek  
Sometimes I watch the birds. 

Craig  
Take some pics for me.  
I love you.

Tweek  
Ok.  
Can I ask u something?

Craig  
Course babe.

Tweek  
Can we get another guinea pig?  
I feel better when animals r around.

Craig  
We can definitely do that. 

Tweek  
I can pretend Im a stay @ home mom.

Craig  
Furbabies count. I say so.

Tweek  
Okay love :)

Craig  
I gotta go back to work, see you tonight.  
Love you lots.

Tweek  
Ilysm.

///

Craig,  
Im goin job hunting 2day so might not be home when u finish.  
-T

Babe,  
Only if you feel ready.  
Don’t push yourself too hard.  
Love, Craig.

Craig,  
I want to try.  
-T

Babe,  
Good luck today!  
Don’t forget to take your meds!  
Love, Craig.

 

///

Tweek  
I called in sick 4 u b4 I left

Craig  
I didn’t see this until now.  
Sorry. Thank you.

Tweek  
U wanna talk abt it?

Craig  
Idk, I might be going down again.  
Amazing timing.

Tweek  
Im not surprised you have been working nonstop.  
Prob burnout. I’ll call dr.

Craig  
Thank you, sorry for doing this to you.

Tweek  
U haven’t done anything 2 me.  
I am ok thanks 2 u.  
I love u.

Craig  
We are hot messes.

Tweek  
We r doin ok 4 2 hot messes.

Craig  
Maybe we should get that Guinea Pig soon.

Tweek  
We can get 1 asap.  
I hope u feel better soon my love.

Craig  
Thank you.  
I’m going to sleep for a bit.

Tweek  
Sleep well <3

///

Babe, Guinea Pig name suggestions?  
Poppy?  
Love, Craig.

Blaze?  
-T

Babe,  
How about Luna?  
Love, Craig.

Craig  
I like Luna. Maybe Cinnamon?  
-T

Babe,  
I’ve got it! Sunshine!  
Love, Craig

Craig  
Absolutely not!  
Happy?  
-T

Babe,  
Nah, Oreo?  
Love, Craig

Craig,  
No. If we’re goin with food how abt Peanut?  
-T

Tweek,  
That’s so basic.  
Sonny?  
Love, Craig

Craig,  
2 much like Sunny/Sunshine.  
Charlie?  
-T

Babe,  
You’d think we were naming our first child!  
Mocha?  
Love, Craig

Craig,  
No way. Nothing coffee related.  
Also no human babies.  
Maybe just Baby?  
-T

Babe,  
Only furbabies for sure.  
What about Babe, seeing as I call you that so often?  
Love, Craig

My love,  
I think I like that 1 the best.  
Love Tweek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my head they got two guinea pigs called Babe and Love, because I'm a disgusting sap.  
> My tumblr is blesspastacraig if you wanna be friends :)


End file.
